


We Should Drive

by Vacillating



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Road Trips, motel sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2035836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vacillating/pseuds/Vacillating
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Sam are driving to LA. They're taking it slow and enjoying what happens along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Should Drive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perrysian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perrysian/gifts).



> Many thanks to ilostmyshoe for beta reading and correcting my many Britishisms. Any remaining errors are my own.

"I think we should drive," Steve says.

For a moment, Sam doesn't know where to begin with that. "We can't… Steve, do you know…" He takes a deep breath, and goes with, "Why can't we just fly? Like normal people do?"

Steve shrugs. "We can treat it like a vacation. Rent a car, explore the country."

"Do you know how far away LA actually is?" Sam asks. "I'm just checking."

"I did a few shows there, before they shipped me off to Europe," Steve replies ruefully. "I know it's a long way, but maybe taking some time wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world…"

"Is this an excuse?" Sam asks, and the hungry glint in Steve's eye is enough that he agrees.

*

"Not a word of complaint," Sam warns, when Steve pushes the passenger seat back as far as it will go and still looks like he can't decide what to do with his knees. "This was your idea, remember. We could have asked any number of your friends for a ride in one of their planes…"

"Tony offered again this morning," Steve admits. He's come straight from the Avengers Tower where the team regrouped last night after dealing with a small outbreak of sharks with laser eyes.

"And you said no," Sam says. He makes the left turn out of his street and somehow it hits him that they are actually going, this is really happening, in a way that didn't sink in when they were planning and packing and talking it all through and trying to explain to people why they weren't flying without using the words _motel sex_.

"I said no," Steve agrees. "Tony still seemed pretty confused, but Pepper dragged him away for some kind of paperwork, so I'm sure he won't have time to think about it for a while."

"Just as well," Sam says. "None of the laser sharks got you, right?"

"Not so's you could tell now," Steve replies. He turns his head as they pass some billboards. "I wished you were there, though. People who could fly had a real advantage; I ended up in the water with the sharks."

"Yeah, I was sorry not to be able to help," Sam says. "On the other hand, some of the guys were clearly glad I was at group, so it balances out."

"I'm glad you're sticking to that, too," Steve says, glancing over at Sam. Sam finds the heat of his gaze a bit distracting and has to deliberately turn his attention back to the road.

"Where did the laser sharks even come from?" Sam asks. He reminds himself that the plan is motel sex _tonight_ , not at the first place they drive past on the way out of New York.

"We've put them in the general category of 'science gone wrong' for now," Steve says. "Although Bruce did say this morning that he spoke to Betty, and she thought she knew someone who was experimenting along those lines, so they might find out by the time we're back."

"You'd think the government or someone would keep a register of people doing experiments which could lead to the release of monsters," Sam replies.

"I think SHIELD was trying," Steve says, "We had Phil on the comms for some of the fight, and he seemed very disappointed that he didn't already know that laser sharks were a possibility. I guess maybe HYDRA knew and covered it up, but Betty suggested they were from Europe – released weeks ago to swim west and only just arrived. Keeping track outside the US must be much harder."

"I guess so," Sam agrees. "And mad scientists probably aren't too keen on registration anyway."

Steve looks out the window and doesn't seem to have anything else to say, so Sam lets him be. Decompressing post-battle is tough on anyone.

*

They drive. New York city passes, and Philadelphia, and the cities melt away. They take the toll road – it's not like they can't afford it – and the rolling countryside and big open spaces seem to relax Steve. They stop for lunch at a roadside diner. Steve orders apple pie for dessert, so Sam teases him for being a cliché.

Steve sighs. "I like it. Everyone likes it."

"It wouldn't be a cliché if they didn't," Sam agrees. "But it's still overdone, Cap."

"Not the time for code names," Steve reminds him, checking, somewhat half-heartedly, that nobody's listening. "And do you really need to bug me about it?"

"Yes. I have to keep you on your toes. It is–" Sam grins, "My patriotic duty."

Steve looks at him, eyes wide and clear. _Hungry_ , Sam thinks, and he doesn't think that another serving of pie will help.

He leans in over the narrow table, intending to tease Steve some more, but finds his lips captured in a kiss. It's brief, simple and sweet, and Steve looks down and then around afterwards – unsure, checking in case someone's going to take offense, knowing that although there are worse places this isn't the best place – but joy suddenly wells up in Sam.

"We're not on a timetable," he says. "We don't have to drive all afternoon. We could…"

"We do need to get there eventually," Steve says reluctantly, and Sam thinks he means something like, _if I take you to bed now we might not leave for a week._ "I'll take a turn driving."

*

Most of the afternoon is spent listening to Michael Jackson and trying to explain to Steve the social and political implications of his work.

*

About six in the evening Steve pulls off the road and parks outside a motel. He doesn’t consult Sam about the timing, but Sam has been a little aroused all afternoon and is certainly not complaining.

"We can order takeout to a motel, right?" Steve asks, hand on the door handle.

"Should be fine," Sam says. Steve is off, presumably booking the room, and Sam knows he won't catch up until Steve lets him; so he takes their overnight bags out of the trunk and ambles into reception.

Steve hands him a key.

They get the room without speaking. Sam opens the door and steps inside, and it shuts before he has registered much other than beige wallpaper and a bed. Steve's hands are on him suddenly – on his shoulders, his hips.

Sam drops his bag, relief flooding his body. He's been waiting for so long, and he's hard almost instantly.

"Can I fuck you?" Steve breaths in his ear. Sam can only nod.

The room is small and in two steps they fall, tangled, onto the bed. Sam struggles with Steve's shirt buttons while Steve goes straight for Sam's fly. Sam pushes his hips up, wanting to be helpful, and knowing Steve won’t mind that it makes him look desperate.

"Are you ready, soldier?" Steve asks, grinning.

"Yes, sir," Sam replies with a smirk. It doesn't last long. Steve hurries to kiss it away – deep and dirty. Gradually Steve slows down, savouring every moment. At home, every moment together is frantic, rushed, preoccupied by the knowledge that either or both of them could be called away to an emergency at any time.

Here, they are finally, really off-duty for a few days. And Steve apparently intends to make the best of it. He finishes unbuttoning Sam's shirt, fingers nimble and precise, never releasing Sam's mouth. Steve’s hips push forward – Sam's flat on his back on the bed, and he decides to just lie back and let it happen for a moment.

It turns out to be longer than a moment. Once Steve's exposed the skin he was looking for, he takes Sam's aching cock into his mouth. Steve's not a gentle lover – he's too strong and too easily swept away by the moment – and Sam gets a rush out of letting go and letting Steve do the work.

"St…" he says, panting, pushing into the warm wet heat and close, so very close, wanting to hold out but also desperate to finish, "Steve!"

Steve swallows around him, and Sam comes, crying out. He's out of it for a minute, and the next thing he knows is that Steve's whispering in his ear, "I know you wanted more, but we've got days and days, and I love the way you look like this..."

"Steve," Sam manages, and pulls Steve across into a kiss.

When they surface, Sam asks Steve whether he wants an orgasm or pizza first. Steve doesn't even reply aloud; his rumbling stomach is all the answer they need.

After the pizza, Sam sucks Steve off, slow, careful, keeping Steve at the very edge for longer than most men could stand before finally sending him over.

*

Sam wakes up with one of Steve's arms over his chest. He grins at Steve’s rumpled hair and peaceful smile and firmly reminds himself that morning sex is a necessary casualty of getting an early start. When they get on the road Steve's hand keeps slipping from the steering wheel onto Sam's knee. Sam relaxes into the touch and watches the changing scenery. They stop at a drive-thru for lunch. They’ve got plenty of time. Soon enough there's another motel. It's a long drive to LA.


End file.
